


Do I look like a?

by losthpfanficwriter (erbkaiser)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bad Jokes, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2019-11-26 10:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18179291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erbkaiser/pseuds/losthpfanficwriter
Summary: Ron doesn't like to do chores in his house. What is his wife Hermione to do, but ask for help?





	Do I look like a?

"Ronald, when are you going to fix the bedroom door?"  
Ron looked up from the _Daily Prophet_ to see his wife of six months, Hermione, standing in the kitchen door, her hands on her hips and an annoyed expression he knew all too well on her face.

"Hrmh? What's wrong with it?" he asked, chewing on a bacon sandwich as he spoke.

"Honestly Ronald, don't talk with your mouth full," Hermione said, then let out a sigh. "And I told you a million times, it's all crooked from last time George came over and he crashed into it while drunk."

"Why don-cha use a Repairo or somewhat?" Ron continued chewing.

"It's _Reparo_ Ron, and you know that spell doesn't work well on wood."

"Yeah yeah, do I _look_ like a carpenter? Maybe later. Gotta get to the Ministry, Shack will be all over me if I'm late for Auror training again… 'ta!" And with an absent-minded kiss on her cheek he hopped in the fireplace to floo out, leaving a frustrated wife behind.

-x-x-x-x-

"Ronald, the door is still crooked. And when you're done fixing that, you can help me prepare the garden," Hermione said at the breakfast table.

"What? Do I _look_ like a gardener?" Ron complained, chewing on his bacon sandwich. "Hey did you see the Quidditch stats? The Cannons have -"

"Ronald, you _promised_ me you'd help out with the garden," his wife interrupted him. "You know I'm pants at landscaping spells, and do you really expect me to clear out the rocks and weeds to make room for my vegetables by my self?"

"Ugh, stop your nagging," Ron grumbled. "I'm busy, Shack wants me to do some extra training over the weekend. I'll do it later, okay?"

"Make sure you do," she huffed in response. Ron kissed her cheek and left.

-x-x-x-x-

"Ronald, what about the bedroom, my garden, and did you think about the floo ward? I'm getting tired of cleaning all the dust whenever someone comes through," Hermione said in a long-suffering voice.

"Not now honey, I'm busy," Ron dismissed her, reading the paper. "I'll do the door and that garden of yours later, and as for the floo, do I _look_ like a Warder?"

"I don't care what you look like, _Ronald Billius Weasley_. I want those things done before the weekend, understood?" Hermione stood next to the kitchen table, glaring at him.

"Morgana's tits, woman! I'm busy with training! Ask Harry to do it or something, lucky bastard is done with basic already…"

"Maybe I will, at least _he_ gets things done!"

"Yeah, yeah. I bet if you ask him, he'll be right over. Later, honey." This time she was turning away from him as he tried to kiss her cheek before he flooed out.

-x-x-x-x-

Ron returned home, tired from a rough day of training. "Honey, I'm home! What's for dinner?" he called, getting no response.  
As he stepped into the parlor he noticed he wasn't leaving a trail of soot behind as he usually did, and as he made his way to the (empty) kitchen he could see his unruly backyard now looked very different.  
All the rocks had been cleared out and two nice looking vegetable patches had been created, and there were even flowers growing there now.  
"Wow, she's been busy," he mumbled to himself as he went upstairs. The lights were out but he could still see the bedroom door was not half falling from its hinges, instead it looked like new. He opened the door and saw his wife lying in bed, her hair wild on the pillow and a sheen of sweat all over as she snoozed.  
"Honey?" he asked quietly , touching her by the shoulder.

She woke instantly. "Oh! Ron! You're home!" Awake she looked even more exhausted somehow, Ron thought.

"Hi, honey. Rough day? I saw you took care of the floo, garden, and bedroom door," he commented.

She stretched, causing the sheet to fall away and revealing she was completely naked, and covered in sweat. Ron grinned, that wasn't like her at all… she never went to bed wearing anything less than a night gown.

"Oh, I didn't, Harry did it all," Hermione said, then yawned before continuing, "He took care of _everything_ … the garden, the floo ward, and the bed… the crooked bedroom door." Her cheeks were slightly flushed, Ron noticed.

"Ah, good on him. How did you convince him to help out?"

"Well, I called him and explained that I had a lot of things in he home you were neglecting," she said. Ron winced a little at the phrasing she chose. "Harry of course offered to come over straight away, but I felt that would be taking advantage of him, so I asked what he wanted in return."

"Smart move, honey. So, what did he ask for?"

"You know Harry, he has a sweet tooth. He asked me for some treacle tart in return. I said we didn't have any, so he said in that case he wanted something equally as sweet… me." Ron saw her blush intensify.

"Good ol' Harry, always the joker. So how did he like his treacle tart? Any left for me?"

"What treacle tart? Honestly, Ron, do I _look_ like a baker?"

Ron stared at his wife in confusion as she got up from the bed and walked past him into their bathroom, her gait unsteady as if her legs couldn't quite support her...

**Author's Note:**

> Another take on an old joke


End file.
